The Still before the Storm
by NickeltheRed
Summary: Shock and the Elder witches are on edge when they feel something looming its way towards Halloween Town. Is it something the Town can hadle, or will another distaster occur regarding outsiders? Is Jack's crown at risk? Another door has been opened. L/Sh and J/S. Re-edited.
1. Something Unknown this Way Comes

**Original characters and storyline belongs to Tim Burton and Disney, and co.**

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><p>The vast mass number of stars began to fade behind the morning's first light. And the vampire clan currently strolling up the town streets, had instantly felt fatigue settle in their bones as dawn crept over the horizon. They yawned in unison and all pairs of fangs retracted back into their sockets. But before they retired to their grave beds for their day's slumber, their leader had pulled at the rope connected to the Town Square's tall tower. It activated the last dark number block in the row to move and fall forward, revealing the block behind, so now the calendar read <em>003. <em>

And with that, the old tattered rooster crowed, stirring the rest of the residents from sleep, signaling it was time to continue preparing things for their sacred night. The sun's jack-o-lantern grin finally poked its way over the treetops in the distance.

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><p>Meanwhile, a young witch pulled on her velvet violet cloak over her shoulders and departed from the busy-growing town by broomstick.<p>

She flew over Spiral Hill towards the more-so barren lands beyond. There, a large tree house awaited her, balanced upon the tangle of crooked branches of the tall and solo birch tree**: **a two-part cabin, complete with a straw watch tower, climbing ropes, ladders, curving footsteps that followed the branches, and a swinging bridge in its middle. It was newly built, more proportionately structured than the one before in its place from long ago.

The sign carelessly pegged into the soil below declared in heavy, dripping ink: _**Jack's Boys**_, added with _**AND** **Girl!**_

Shock angled the handle of the broom upwards to an extent, her gesture to pull it to a halt. It obliged, and steadily lowered until the witch was able to touch the heel of her boot to the wooden loft beneath.

Then grabbing the broom, she made her way towards the narrow screen door, murmuring, "Sleep now."

And once inside the hut, Shock hung up her cloak on the pair of ram antlers mounted to the wall. But suddenly, not an instant later—Shock had been startled by a shrill yelp that emitted from the last room on the left.

_"Barrel!"_ Dashing down the shortened corridor straightaway, Shock barged through the door. "What is it, Barrel?"

The stocky ghoul was in the center of his bedchambers crouching in pain, with his back to the door...desperately clutching an empty bowl, which resembled a junior-sized mixing cauldron to his front. Groaning, he eventually looked at his roommate over his shoulder, presenting an expression of utter despair to her. Shock immediately repeated her question, strolling in closer with a moderate amount of concern.

"Shock...," whimpered Barrel, while he stood to face her directly. "The stash...is _gone_. Th-there's no more candy...at all...left in the _whole_ house."

"Oh, Barrel. You only have to wait just three more days to collect another stash. Now compose yourself before you begin to molt." Shock sighed heavily with a blend of relief and irritation.

She hated when Barrel worked himself up over trivial matters. The amount of stress he held onto would eventually cause small patches of body rot to peel off, and even let off a decaying stink. It was quite a mess usually, and it was one mess she was certainly not in the mood to take responsibility for at the moment...

"...Idiot." A third voice soon entered the scene from behind Shock. A groggy, and vexed voice, at that.

Shock rotated to discover Lock leaning in the doorway presently, his right arm angled against the frame. Clad in red slacks, and a matching open robe, his face was stern mirroring his tone, his flaming hair tousled. He growled, "You woke me. Worse than that damned rooster you are, kid."

Sticking out his discolored tongue, Barrel shot back, "Crab."

Shock simply rolled her eyes.

Lock's sharp golden eyes narrowed then, outright glowering in return, but shortly after they glided smoothly towards his witchy cohort. "So, you're back? I heard you leave in the middle of the night hours back."

Nodding her head in acknowledgement, Shock clarified somewhat earnestly, "The Witching Elders say something's coming our way. The Tarot readings continue to reflect the exact same thing over and over. We tried to use the seeing crystals, and water scrying, even with smoke too, and it's just the same. The message is there, but it's not yet pure and clear."

"Something bad?" Barrel piped up, highly interested.

Lock, however, was silenced by the recent report. Shock and Barrel always noticed when Lock moved himself into deep contemplative mode, by his total lack of attention. Moments later, he eyed her once more with dark wonder. "Shock, I want you be careful how much magick you channel into those readings from here on."

His sudden statement was not so much of a request. It was an order.

The trio respected each other on various levels. The reason they were so functional when it came to rousing mischief, had been because of their separate aptitudes and talents, which in the end complimented the others. Barrel had many tactics to obtain the best candies throughout the years. His areas of expertise lied in the mask department and altering voices regarding the perfect disguises. Ghouls always had a nose for what they desired the most, (other than deceased material, naturally) and knew exactly how to find it. Shock, the feisty, ingenious little witch always had childish pranks on her mind. But she was now even more advanced in her witchcraft, her bookworm knowledge more mature. And lastly, they had Lock of course—the demon with the charm of a slick-talker, the mischievous, playful attitude of a poltergeist, and the respectable skills concerning dark arts. Nonetheless, all in all, Lock was the one who discovered the two of them as younglings when frolicking about outside, so as the right of being the founder of the trio, he took the role of their chief when he absolutely deemed it essential.

"Do you think it's a threat?" Shock meant to question his inner opinions.

"Everyone knows that the Elders are the wisest and strongest magicians in the entire town," he reminded them. "I find it suspicious that they cannot see what is coming. _What__ever_ it is must have a Craft of its own, which can cloud its own image...perhaps unintentionally, but then again, maybe not."

Barrel poked at Shock's shoulder then, "Do they at least have an idea _when_ it's coming here?"

Shock's pallid, slender fingers absentmindedly fiddled with a long dark ringlet of her hair, recalling and regathering all the information she could possibly manage. "Not quite," she told him, "but it's soon, very soon."


	2. To the Festival

**A Special thanks to all who have read this and had sent encouraging messages thus far. It certainly means something to me.**

**Additional inspiration was based on Wikipedia's link List of The Nightmare Before Characters, a rather interesting read really. It gives more detail on the citizens of Halloween Town.**

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><p>Gazing into the watering hole before her, Shock stood, intertwining gold-tinted ribbons into her hair. When it'd been completed, she let the braid drop, and the pointed end under the band landed effortlessly against her abdomen.<p>

She sighed as she observed her reflection's new ceremonial tunic made of fine cotton. It was a gift, offered to her by Helgamine, her Mother Witch and High Priestess. The rounded hem reached her kneecaps, just stopping above the brims of her suede boots. The base color of the gown was an elegant black. The thick V cut of the neckline, and the boarders of its wide quarter-length sleeve were rimmed with a flowing gold and white stitching, knotting and twirling into the shape of jagged green leaves. To complete Shock's image, shimmering golden hoops hung along the slope of her jaw, matching the pentacle attached to her choker.

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><p>Now back at the base of tree, Shock had hollered up to the hut, demanding the boys to hurry it up. Shock soon heard the creaky spring and the sharp <em>smack! <em>of the door moments before Barrel walked into her sight overhead.

"Oi, Shock!" He waved merrily, leaning over the wooden porch railing. "I'd thought your coven would want to you to go with them to the Festival?"

"I asked for permission to arrive with you two instead!" The witch called up afterwards. "After all, it's our little tradition anyhow, right dummy? But, let us go soon; I can already hear the Town's Anthem has started already!"

Barrel paused, and listened. Very true, he noted. In the distance, there was the faint sound of the familiar melody, and the far-off voices were chorusing, "_—is Halloween...Halloween...Halloween...Halloween..."_

His trademark toothy grin simply widened as he turned away to fetch Lock. "No reason to be so rude," and then he added, "touchy ol' hag."

Socks hands shot up to her hips in frustration. _"I heard that!"_

But her elevated shout only granted her an echoing cackle from Barrel in return.

And before long, a low and gentle rumble rung out to Shock's left, which was followed by a series of sprightly crackles and sparks. Flames erupted then, and Lock materialized out from the fire. Barrel hopped down from the lowest ladder, landing upon the sands near her as well.

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><p>"Happy Halloween," Lock greeted her.<p>

She nodded respectively. "Merry Samhain."

"_Witches_." He rolled his eyes, grumbling.

Grinning at him now, Shock replied sarcastically, "_Demons_."

The boys too, were dressed for the sacred occasion—Lock in a crimson cloak, his traditional red devil mask hanging from the back of his neck. As for Barrel, he had thrown on a dark body suit, which was purposely torn and shredded at the sleeves, and detailed with a skeletal pattern down the front. It was an updated version of what he owned as a child. Though, like her, it seemed that Barrel had left his mask behind.

Barrel eventually fixed his main attention on Lock. "Show off..."

Shock nearly pouted out of pity towards Barrel, despite her typical rather threatening exterior. She knew even when ghouls were equal legendary creatures amid many others, they still were never known for being gifted or trained in projecting active magick.

"You can do all the tricks you want now since we're older, but I was still Oogie's star pupil in the past." Barreled continued. "Besides...Oogie was exiled by the Pumpkin King for practicing those arts. For all we know, Lock, you'd be the next one hiding out in the hole under the tree. Ha!"

Though at this piont, Shock decided to get involved. She strode a half-step forward to swat Barrel upside the head, which made him hiss out loudly. "And Oogie also _abused_ the dark arts obsessively, and had plans to dethrone Jack, rule us, and most likely to drive the town to its worst possible— Lock, here, has no need to take part in any part of that, right?" She countered.

The Demon shrugged nonchalantly, indicating he wasn't too bothered by the facts. "Not practically, no."

"See, Barrel? Lock does not abuse those arts; he has great control in them, he doesn't allow them to take control over him."

Barrel cast another vile look upon her. "That's a biased stated statement, Shocky. You're a magician!"

"Exactly," Shock argued over. "As a fellow magician, wouldn't you consider, biased words or not, I would know another decent magick user when I cross paths with one?"

"Whatever." the goul evidently, was growing bored with the conversation by the way he stretched his arms over and behind neck in a very uninterested manner. Then he strutted away, making his way towards the old steel gate beyond the swinging bridge. "But if Jack beats you black and green in the near future, don't come whimpering to me!"

Lock's pale blue lips pressed together while he watched Barrel whirl away. The hardened scowl on his own features was ever so unsettling...that is, to anyone who wasn't accustomed to seeing it overtime. Shock tugged at his sleeve moments later, pulling him along as well. "Oh Lock, come now. He takes pleasure in creating a dispute just for the sake of things. After all, we three _do_ have a knack for teasing each other. He means nothing that personal. Barrel's merely being Barrel."

"I know," Lock guaranteed, though a bit sullen yet. But he direct a look towards her; an intent look that actually made Shock hesitate. _"But...you_ are acting strange."

"What?"

"Don't play dumb with me, either. That's _definitely_ not like the typical you. What's got you acting so silent and on edge?"

"I am not—"

"Shock, answer me," Lock interjected, shaking out of her grasp to clutch her wrist in contrast. "_Now_."

The both of them paused. Shock stared intently at him, her hark irises danced with a fair amount of apprehension. Her jaw slacked a little, and it closed just as quickly. But with one more tug on her wrist by Lock, it was just the right last encouraging thrust she needed to speak. Again, her mouth parted and the words slipped out at last. "I...I just don't like what's coming here, alright? I have this feeling...that's it's coming here _tonight_. We may be in trouble."

"Well then," he said, much more satisfied. "We'll just have to see it for ourselves, now won't we?"

And as Lock released her and turned, Shock could have sworn she'd seen a flash of a venomous leer form upon his face.

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><p><strong><span>NOTE<span>: I doubt I need to clarify this, but _just_ in case— I am _not_ in any way trying to promote the practice of magick is sinful or wrong. Nor do I believe that all those who practice it deal with demons and dark arts. I in reality, love researching related subjects to Wicca, Old World witchcraft, and so forth. The talk of magick in this story is merely for the sake of fitting the relationship and conduct between the characters.**


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